


Sunset in the Moonlight

by GreenHeadedTanager37



Category: GOT7
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Comfort, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Panic Attacks, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Social Anxiety, Soft Park Jinyoung (GOT7), Work, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenHeadedTanager37/pseuds/GreenHeadedTanager37
Summary: You have a breakdown when no one is around, 'just the way it should be'. But you can't seem to stop on your own.
Relationships: Park Jinyoung (GOT7)/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Sunset in the Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> This short fic deals with anxiety and panic attacks. Contents may be triggering for some readers. Please be careful with yourself :)
> 
> This was inspired by the song Get you the Moon by Kina: https://youtu.be/WTsmIbNku5g

"You gave me a shoulder when I  
needed it  
You gave me love when I  
wasn't feeling it  
You helped me fight when I  
was giving in  
You,  
you made me laugh when I  
was losing it."

You were the newbie at work. That always made everything worse. You knew you'd eventually get used to the flow, and your boss, and maybe you'd even make some friends. Someday it would become so routine that it could be easy, comfortable almost.

But today, today was not that day.

Today you were late. Today you messed up everyone's coffee orders. Your boss yelled at you, and you had locked yourself in the bathroom afterwards trying not to keep yourself together. Your emotional state had been a roller coaster lately. You'd be fine one minute, then crying or yelling the next. Usually it was the former, but you'd been fighting with your spouse lately over the smallest things. You hadn't even seen him since yesterday morning because you got home after he went to bed and then he got up and left before you belatedly awoke almost an hour late. Already freaking out yet hardly awake, you rushed through everything you had time to do, barely catching the second bus.

You felt so unprofessional, un-put-together, and it was poking at your insecurities. It seemed like your co-workers, especially the girls, were talking behind your back. Why wouldn't they? They probably thought you were an idiot. You boss probably hated you. What if he asked for some report you had forgotten about? You scoured your brain for such a thing, but couldn't seem to focus on anything, thoughts bouncing back and forth like pinballs.

You were such a mess. Why couldn't you just get things right? All of these little, common things were piling on top of you one by one and it felt like you were being crushed.

You distracted yourself as best you could, and washed with cold water before going back out into the office and braving the rest of the day. But you never stopped shaking, and knew that this was just the beginning.

You were breathing hard and beginning to break down before you could unlock your apartment. Your hands were shaking too badly to get the key in and it was only furthering your distress, just wanting to finally, finally be in private. You managed to get the door open, fingers cold as you pushed it so hard that it hit the wall. Closing it behind you, you blindly made your way through the house, vision blurry with unshed tears.

You had been hoping beyond hope that a good cry would be what you needed, but as you hurried to your bedroom and shut the door behind you, you knew it was going to be much worse than that.

"No, no-no-no," you whispered frantically to yourself. But it was no use. Your heart was still pounding from your jog up the stairs, and it seemed to jerk your whole body with every beat. You could see it beating through your jacket. You clutched your hands over it, shutting your eyes and praying for it to please stop. It didn't.

You dropped your things somewhere, moving to the window and opening it a crack to let in fresh air, and then dropping to your hands and knees next to it. Heat flushed through your body and you could feel the misting of sweat on your brow. You quickly stripped off your jacket and balled it up in your arms.

"It's just a panic attack," you told yourself, quickly losing air as your words turned into nothingness, "it's okay, it's okay."

But still you panted for air as you started to sob, hot tears sliding down your cheeks. You stared at the floor without seeing it, feeling weak. Why was this happening to you now? Why wouldn't it stop??

Numbness that you couldn't control spread up from your fingertips like fire, tingling in your lips and cheeks as you cried. You had been ready to cry just a few minutes ago, dying for some kind of release of all the stress you were carrying. But now you couldn't stop, you couldn't stop anything that your body was doing.

The impending doom that had been hanging over you all day was surrounding you now, a dark cloud, suffocating you. Fear squeezed your heart faster, pumping the horrible feeling through your entire body.

You're dying, a voice whispered in your head, no longer feeling like it was attached to you, you're having a heart attack, you're going to die right here on the floor.

You wiped drool from the side of your mouth, sinking down to lay with your head caged between your arms, legs trembling too much to hold yourself up. Your chest was hurting now and your muscles clenched, desperately attempting to stop everything from shaking and throbbing. It was no use.

You couldn't stop it. Nothing was working.  
Nothing works, nothing works, it's different this time, you're really dying, this is it, your brain buzzed on repeat.

Time was non-existent. Everything was happening in a few seconds, and dragging out for hours. You couldn't think of anything except trying so hard to breathe. Trying so hard not to die.

You heard the front door open and close, a sharp twinge accompanying the deep rooted guilt of not being able to calm down before he got home. Your pulse was racing in your ears too loudly for you to hear anything else.

"Y/n?" His voice came after a minute, muffled through the closed door.

You wanted to tell him not to come in, that you were fine and you were just a little worked up and tired. But you couldn't, your breathing wasn't there, and the knob twisted before the door opened quietly. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his feet in the doorway, but you couldn't pull your gaze away from the floorboards.

"Y/n?" You wanted to shake your head, but couldn't move, nothing but your ragged gasping reaching him.

"Hey, breathe," he said, approaching calmly.

Tears stung your eyes, more guilt sweeping over you at the gentleness in his voice that masked exhaustion. This wasn't what he should come home to, not after having a much harder day than you, working harder, with more pressure than you. You should be able to comfort him, not force him to take care of you when he probably really needed to rest.

Unfortunately anxiety and low mental health weren't uncommon in his industry, and neither were they for you, so as soon as he walked in the room he knew exactly what was going on.

"Hey," his voice was stronger, right next to you now.

"Look at me," his hand took yours from your side, placing it over his chest, "Breathe, y/n."

"I- I'm trying, I'm s-sorry," you coughed out.

"I know, don't be sorry," he said, "look at me."

You could hear the bones in your neck creak as you slowly turned to look at Jinyoung. He did look tired, but his loving, dark brown gaze was firm, and you could feel your stiff muscles begin to release. His breathing was steady, his heartbeat strong where he pressed your hand to his chest. 

A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, "There you are. I'm here, let's ride this out."

"My heart won't slow down." You said, all in one short breath, saliva catching in your throat and making you cough.

"It will," he reassured, "I promise, you'll come out the other side of this, and I'll still be here when you do. This isn't too much for you. You've been through this before and it's not too much for you."

He wrapped his free arm around you and you tucked your head into his chest. He felt stable and strong, in contrast to your frail, trembling frame. You latched onto him, fingers fisting in his sweater like it was the only thing keeping you above water.

"What's five things you can see?" His deep voice rumbled through your bones.

You swallowed a gulp of a sob, the air sticking in your chest as you struggled to answer coherently, "The- the bed. I see the lamp shade, it's crooked. I see dust floating in the sunlight. How many is that?"

Your breathing was still shaky, and you could hardly focus on what you were saying. You kept running out of air.

"Three." He said.

"T- then, I see... Um, the cup of coffee on the nightstand, and, I see your shirt."

"Now four things you can feel." He murmured.

"I can feel my, my shirt wrinkling up. And, the dirt on the floor. I can feel your fingers, and I c- can feel my hair sticking on my neck."

"Good," he praised you softly.

You continued, down through three sounds, two smells, and one taste.

"Alright," he had begun rubbing your back in slow circles, "Now a deep breath for me."

Your breathing was still irregular, jittering between a normal breath and two short ones. You tried to hold it still to do what he asked, but were shaking too badly, only gulping a few uneven inhales.

"I c-can't," you managed, beginning to overthink again.

"You can." He said, his bordering on stern, making you look him in the eyes.

"Try again."

His eyes were lit by the evening sun, a firm, secure look in their depths. He laced his fingers through yours and you held onto them tightly, like you'd lose him if you let go. You tried again, sucking air in too hard and sputtering it back out.

He nodded encouragingly, moving to thumb away a stray tear, "Better, again. Try to match my breaths."

It took a while, but eventually you succeeded in controlling your aching lungs.

"I can't breathe," you'd say again, beginning to worry as every time your mind wandered seemed to put you out of breath.

"Yes you can," he said each time, quietly.

The sun descended lower and lower outside, the air conditioner eventually kicking on in the hallway. By then you were significantly calmer, taking deep breaths through your stomach and letting them out in time with Jinyoung. It was honestly pretty hard, he had a lot of lung capacity.

You were, to put it lightly, exhausted. Like someone drained all of the life out of you, making you too tired to even sit up, leaning against Jinyoung for support. You felt like you were just a hide full of bones, head lolling against his chest and eyelids heavy. Jinyoung let you rest, he himself seeming more relaxed now that the panic had passed. Still, guilt washed over you at how he hadn't even changed out of his work clothes, but was content to support you here anyway.

He hadn't asked you to just calm down already, like you had been saying to yourself all day. He didn't say that it wasn't a big deal or try to minimize it just because it was all in your mind. But he also didn't make a big deal out of it. Already several well-meaning persons in your life had freaked out over your physical state and caused everything to be ten times worse. He didn't freak out, nor did he seem irritated at your helplessness.

He was simply there for you. To hold your hand and guide you through it. To remind you that it would end soon, and to bring you back to reality when you got lost in your head.

Even when you fought, he still did this for you. And even if you hurt each other, he would still protect you. You smiled, but it faded a little as something blue touched your heart, a doubt that wasn't yet quelled.

"Hey," he said, as if sensing the change, dipping his head and trying to get you to look in his face, "Talk to me."

You sighed, "It's really nothing, it's just me."

"That's why I want to know."

You didn't like getting all mushy and deep, it was still hard for you to open up sometimes about all the random thoughts that floated through your head. But you knew that whatever they were, they were safe with him. So you shifted to look up at him and let the thoughts tumble from your lips.

"You're so wonderful Jinyoung. You're ambitious, and smart, and good-looking. You can sing and dance and act, and cook. You're healthy and you workout, you're mature, and funny. So, why...?"

He looked at you, brow furrowing slowly, "Why what?"

You shook your head, but he kept looking at you for an answer, so you took a deep breath and eventually whispered, "Why do you put up with me?"

Jinyoung's eyes went dark, but it was warm, his pupils expanding and softening as his hand came up to touch your jaw.

"...Because I care about you."

He took in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh, stroking your cheek, "You're not a burden y/n, I know that you feel like that. And it really, it really just sucks."

His unusually blatant wording made you smile and he grinned, "I used to have really strong tendencies to think the worst about everything, and it really took a toll on me for a long time. You can ask Jackson, or Jaebum. Or even Yugyeom. The point is, I know how frustrating it can be. I know that you can't always control it, but that's okay. I'll help you, and you won't have to cope forever, you'll get better too. Days won't always feel like this, I promise."

You remembered something, and it made you smile. It sounded cheesy, but the thought was simple. He was your moon, a light in all of your darkness, always shining on you no matter what. Silent, still, unwavering.

"Thank you moon." You said, kissing him on the cheek.

He rubbed near his ear, "Moon? The sun is still setting."

You looked out the window at the expanse of fiery reds, oranges and pinks.

"It's beautiful."

"So are you." He agreed.

You laughed, looking back up at him, "That was so lame."

He grinned, "You still laughed."

You couldn't help cracking a smile at his expression and he chuckled warmly, pulling your body back against his chest and giving you a squeeze.

"...Thank you," you murmured sleepily, "I love you."

You almost nodded off after a little while, Jinyoung just letting you, petting your hair as you nearly dozed, spent from your own emotions. 

At length, he patted your thigh and started to lean you up, "Okay, it's getting late and you haven't had dinner, so let me change out of these clothes and I'll make some, okay?"

You nodded, silenced by a yawn. He helped you up and you flopped on the bed as he got changed, cheek squished into your arm as you watched him. The sun shone off of the remaining wetness of your eyelashes, sending glowing orbs around him as he moved about the room. You blinked slower and slower, the world blurring softly around you as your body grew weightless. 

And yet through it you still watched him, the light in your darkness, leading you out of yourself and into the sun, as many times as it took.

"Cause you are you are the reason why I'm still  
Hanging on  
Cause you are you are the reason why my head is still a-  
-bove water  
and if I could I'd get you the moon  
and  
give it to you  
and if death was coming for you  
I'd give my life for you."

**Author's Note:**

> Double upload today since I've been gone for foreverr. Honestly half of this one was just comfort fic for myself. If you or a loved one struggle with anxiety or depression or suffer from chronic breakdowns, don't hesitate to tell someone, and get professional help if you need it (or even if you don't need it!). And let me know if you need resources! You're never alone. Wherever you are, whatever is going on, and whatever the state of your mental health, I hope this made your day just that little bit better. Thanks for reading, please leave kudos and feedback if you want to <3


End file.
